Healing Takes Time
by Rose094
Summary: Bella gets a fortune cookie that changes her whole life. The fortune sends her back in time to the 1900's  1917/1918  when a very human Edward is only a boy. Will Bella get the life she and Edward couldn't even dream of or is fate bound to have its way?
1. Chapter 1

_New Moon_

Re-write/fan fiction

by: Bella_Rose94

***No copyright infringement intended. TWILIGHT IS NOT MINE, sadly... All Rights belong to Stephanie Meyer!***

Isabella

OCTOBER

NOVEMBER

DECEMBER

JANUARY

Chapter 1: Waking Up

Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the clock aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.

Charlie's fist came down on the table. "That's it, Bella! I'm sending you to you home."

I looked up drom my cereal, which I was pondering rather then eating, and stared at Charlie in shock. I hadn't been following the conversation- actually I wasn't even aware we were having a conversation- and I wasn't sure what he meant.

"I am home," I mummbled, confused.

"I'm sending you to Renee, to Jacksonville," He clarified.

Charlie watched with exasperation as I slowly grasped the meaning of his words.

"What did I do?" I felt my face crumple. It was so unfair. My behavior had been above reproach for the past four months. After that first week, which neither of us eve mentioned, I hadn't missed a day of school or work. My grades were perfect. I never broke curfew- I never went anywhere from which to break curfewin the first place. I only very rarely served leftovers.

Charlie was scowling at me.

"You didn't do anything. That's the problem. You never do anything." He threw his arms up.

"What? You mean... you want me to get in trouble?" I wondered aloud, my eyebrows pulling together in mystification. I made an effort to pay attention. It wasn't easy. I was so used to tunneling everything out, my ears felt stopped up.

"Trouble would be better than this... this moping around all the time!" Charlie exclaimed.

That stung a bit. I'd been careful to avoid all forms of moroseness, moping included.

"I am not moping around." I argued diligently.

"Wrong word," he gridgingly conceded. "Moping would be better- that would be doing something. You're just... lifeless, Bella. I think that's the word I want."

This accusation was a definite hit beow the belt. I sighed and tried to put some animation into my response.

"I'm sorry, dad." My apology sounded flat, even to my ears. I'd thought I'd been fooling him. Keeping Charlie from suffering was the whole point of all my effort. How depressing to think that the effort had been wasted.

"I don't want you to apologize."

I sighed. "Then tell me what you do want me to do."

"Bella," he hesitated, scrutinizing my reaction to his next words. "Honey, you're not the first person to go through this kind of thing, you know."

"I know that." My accompanying grimace was limp and unimpressive.

"Listen, honey. I think that-that maybe you need some help."

"Help?" I questioned.

He paused, searching for the next words, "When your mother left," he began, frowning, "and took you with her." He inhaled deeply, his eyes turning glassy. "Well, that was a really bad time for me."

"I know, dad," I mumbled, for the first time feeling a burst of hatered at my mother. She'd hurt my dad the way Edward had hurt me, but I don't know what would have happened if I'd had a kid and Edward took it away with him... How had Charlie gotten over it?

"But I handled it," he pointed out. "Honey, you're not handling it. I waited, I hoped it would get better." He stared at me and I looked down quickly. "I think we both know it's not getting better."

"I'm fine." I lied.

He ignored me. "Maybe, well, maybe if you talked to someone about it. A professional?"

"You want me to see a shrink?" My voice was a shade sharper as I realized what he was getting at.

"Maybe it would help."

"And maybe it wouldn't help at all." I snapped viciously.

I didn't know much about a psychoanalysis, but I was pretty sure that it didn't work unless the subject was relatlively honest. Sure, I could tell the truth- if I wanted to spend the rest of my life in a padded cell.

He examined my obstinate expression, and switched to another line of attack.

"It's beyond me, Bella. Maybe your mother-"

"Look," I said in a flat voice. "I'll go out tonight, if you want. I'll call Jess or Angela."

"That's not what I want," he argued, frusturated. "I don't think I can live through seeing you try harder. I've never seen anyone trying so hard. It hurts to watch."

I pretended to be dense, looking down at the table. "I don't understand, Dad. First you're mad because I'm don't do anything, and then you don't want me to go out."

"I want you to be happy- no, not even that much. I just want you not to be miserable. I think you'll have a better chance if you get out of Forks."

My eyes flashed up with the first small spark of actual feeling I'd had in too long to contemplate.

"I'm not leaving," I said.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"I'm in my last semester of school- it would screw everything up."

''You're a good student- you'll figure it out."

"I don't want to crowd mom and Phil."

"Your mother's been dying to have you back."

''Florida is... too hot."

His fist came down on the table again. "We both know what's really going on here, Bella, and it's not good for you." He took a deep breath. "It's been months. No calls, no letters, no contact. You can't keep waiting for him."

I glowered at him. The heat almost, but not quite, reached my face. It had been a long time since I'd blushed with any emotion.

This whole subject was utterly forbidden, as he was well aware.

"I'm not _waiting_ for anything. I don't expect _anything_," I said in a low monotone.

"Bella—," Charlie began, his voice thick.

"I have to get to school," I interrupted, standing up and yanking my untouched

breakfast from the table. I dumped my bowl in the sink without pausing to wash

it out. I couldn't deal with any more conversation. Not right now.

"I'll make plans with Jessica," I called over my shoulder as I strapped on my

school bag, not meeting his eyes. "Maybe I won't be home for dinner. We'll _go to_

Port Angeles and watch a movie."

I was out the front door before he could react.

In my haste to get away from Charlie, I ended up being one of the first ones to

school. The plus side was that I got a really good parking spot. The downside was

that I had free time on my hands, and I tried to avoid free time at all costs.

Quickly, before I could start thinking about Charlie's accusations, I pulled out my

Calculus book. I flipped it open to the section we should be starting today, and

tried to make sense of it. Reading math was even worse than listening to it, but I

was getting better at it. In the last several months, I'd spent ten times the amount

of time on Calculus than I'd ever spent on math before. As a result, I was

managing to keep in the range of a low A. I knew Mr. Varner felt my

improvement was all due to his superior teaching methods. And if that made him

happy, I wasn't going to burst his bubble.

I forced myself to keep at it until the parking lot was full, and I ended up rushing

to English. We were working on _Animal Farm_, an easy subject matter. I didn't

mind communism; it was a welcome change from the exhausting romances that

made up most of the curriculum. I settled into my seat, pleased by the distraction

of Mr. Berty's lecture.

Time moved easily while I was in school. The bell rang all too soon. I started

repacking my bag.

"Bella?"

I recognized Mike's voice, and I knew what his next words would be before he

said them.

"Are you working tomorrow?"

I looked up. He was leaning across the aisle with an anxious expression. Every

Friday he asked me the same question. Never mind that I hadn't taken so much as

a sick day. Well, with one exception, months ago. But he had no reason to look at

me with such concern. I was a model employee.

"Tomorrow is Saturday, isn't it?" I said. Having just had it pointed out to me by

Charlie, I realized how lifeless my voice really sounded.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. "See you in Spanish." He waved once before turning his

back. He didn't bother walking me to class anymore.

I trudged off to Calculus with a grim expression. This was the class where I sat

next to Jessica.

It had been weeks, maybe months, since Jess had even greeted me when I passed

her in the hall. I knew I had offended her with my antisocial behavior, and she

was sulking. It wasn't going to be easy to talk to her now—especially to ask her

to do me a favor. I weighed my options carefully as I loitered outside the

classroom, procrastinating.

I wasn't about to face Charlie again without some kind of social interaction to

report. I knew I couldn't lie, though the thought of driving to Port Angeles and

back alone—being sure my odometer reflected the correct mileage, just in case he

checked—was very tempting. Jessica's mom was the biggest gossip in town, and

Charlie was bound to run into Mrs. Stanley sooner rather than later. When he did,

he would no doubt mention the trip. Lying was out. With a sigh, I shoved the door open.

Mr. Varner gave me a dark look—he'd already started the lecture. I hurried to my

seat. Jessica didn't look up as I sat next to her. I was glad that I had fifty minutes

to mentally prepare myself.

This class flew by even faster than English. A small part of that speed was due to

my goody-goody preparation this morning in the truck—but mostly it stemmed

from the fact that time always sped up when I was looking forward to something

unpleasant.

I grimaced when Mr. Varner dismissed the class five minutes early. He smiled

like he was being nice.

"Jess?" My nose wrinkled as I cringed, waiting for her to turn on me.

She twisted in her seat to face me, eyeing me incredulously. "Are you talking to

_me_, Bella?"

"Of course." I widened my eyes to suggest innocence.

"What? Do you need help with Calculus?" Her tone was a tad sour.

"No." I shook my head. "Actually, I wanted to know if you would… go to the

movies with me tonight? I really need a girls' night out." The words sounded stiff,

like badly delivered lines, and she looked suspicious.

"Why are you asking _me_?" she asked, still unfriendly.

"You're the first person I think of when I want girl time." I smiled, and I hoped

the smile looked genuine. It was probably true. She was at least the first person I

thought of when I wanted to avoid Charlie. It amounted to the same thing.

She seemed a little mollified. "Well, I don't know."

"Do you have plans?"

"No… I guess I can go with you. What do you want to see?"

"I'm not sure what's playing," I hedged. This was the tricky part. I racked my

brain for a clue—hadn't I heard someone talk about a movie recently? Seen a

poster? "How about that one with the female president?"

She looked at me oddly. "Bella, that one's been out of the theater _forever_."

"Oh." I frowned. "Is there anything you'd like to see?"

Jessica's natural bubbliness started to leak out in spite of herself as she thought

out loud. "Well, there's that new romantic comedy that's getting great reviews. I

want to see that one. And my dad just saw _Dead End _and he really liked it."

I grasped at the promising title. "What's that one about?"

"Zombies or something. He said it was the scariest thing he'd seen in years."

"That sounds _perfect_." I'd rather deal with real zombies than watch a romance.

"Okay." She seemed surprised by my response. I tried to remember if I liked

scary movies, but I wasn't sure. "Do you want me to pick you up after school?"

she offered.

"Sure."

Jessica smiled at me with tentative friendliness before she left. My answering

smile was just a little late, but I thought that she saw it.

The rest of the day passed quickly, my thoughts focused on planning for tonight.

I knew from experience that once I got Jessica talking, I would be able to get

away with a few mumbled responses at the appropriate moments. Only minimal

interaction would be required.

The thick haze that blurred my days now was sometimes confusing. I was

surprised when I found myself in my room, not clearly remembering the drive

home from school or even opening the front door. But that didn't matter. Losing

track of time was the most I asked from life.

I didn't fight the haze as I turned to my closet. The numbness was more essential

in some places than in others. I barely registered what I was looking at as I slid

the door aside to reveal the pile of rubbish on the left side of my closet, under the

clothes I never wore.

My eyes did not stray toward the black garbage bag that held my present from

that last birthday, did not see the shape of the stereo where it strained against the

black plastic; I didn't think of the bloody mess my nails had been when I'd

finished clawing it out of the dashboard.

I yanked the old purse I rarely used off the nail it hung from, and shoved the door

shut.

Just then I heard a horn honking. I swiftly traded my wallet from my schoolbag

into the purse. I was in a hurry, as if rushing would somehow make the night pass

more quickly.

I glanced at myself in the hall mirror before I opened the door, arranging my

features carefully into a smile and trying to hold them there.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight," I told Jess as I climbed into the passenger

seat, trying to infuse my tone with gratitude. It had been a while since I'd really

thought about what I was saying to anyone besides Charlie. Jess was harder. I

wasn't sure which were the right emotions to fake.

"Sure. So, what brought this on?" Jess wondered as she drove down my street.

"Brought what on?"

"Why did you suddenly decide… to go out?" It sounded like she changed her

question halfway through.

I shrugged. "Just needed a change."

I recognized the song on the radio then, and quickly reached for the dial. "Do you

mind?" I asked.

"No, go ahead."

I scanned through the stations until I found one that was harmless. I peeked at

Jess's expression as the new music filled the car.

Her eyes squinted. "Since when do you listen to rap?"

"I don't know," I said. "A while."

"You like this?" she asked doubtfully.

"Sure."

It would be much too hard to interact with Jessica normally if I had to work to

tune out the music, too. I nodded my head, hoping I was in time with the beat.

"Okay…" She stared out the windshield with wide eyes.

"So what's up with you and Mike these days?" I asked quickly.

"You see him more than I do."

The question hadn't started her talking like I'd hoped it would.

"It's hard to talk at work," I mumbled, and then I tried again. "Have you been out

with anyone lately?"

"Not really. I go out with Conner sometimes. I went out with Eric two weeks

ago." She rolled her eyes, and I sensed a long story. I clutched at the opportunity.

"Eric _Yorkie_? Who asked who?"

She groaned, getting more animated. "He did, of course! I couldn't think of a nice

way to say no."

"Where did he take you?" I demanded, knowing she would interpret my

eagerness as interest. "Tell me all about it."

She launched into her tale, and I settled into my seat, more comfortable now. I

paid strict attention, murmuring in sympathy and gasping in horror as called for.

When she was finished with her Eric story, she continued into a Conner

comparison without any prodding.

The movie was playing early, so Jess thought we should hit the twilight showing

and eat later. I was happy to go along with whatever she wanted; after all, I was

getting what I wanted—Charlie off my back.

I kept Jess talking through the previews, so I could ignore them more easily. But I

got nervous when the movie started. A young couple was walking along a beach,

swinging hands and discussing their mutual affection with gooey falseness. I

resisted the urge to cover my ears and start humming. I had not bargained for a

romance.

"I thought we picked the zombie movie," I hissed to Jessica.

"This _is _the zombie movie."

"Then why isn't anyone getting eaten?" I asked desperately.

She looked at me with wide eyes that were almost alarmed. "I'm sure that part's

coming," she whispered.

"I'm getting popcorn. Do you want any?"

"No, thanks."

Someone shushed us from behind.

I took my time at the concession counter, watching the clock and debating what

percentage of a ninety-minute movie could be spent on romantic exposition. I

decided ten minutes was more than enough, but I paused just inside the theater

doors to be sure. I could hear horrified screams blaring from the speakers, so I

knew I'd waited long enough.

"You missed everything," Jess murmured when I slid back into my seat. "Almost

everyone is a zombie now."

"Long line." I offered her some popcorn. She took a handful.

The rest of the movie was comprised of gruesome zombie attacks and endless

screaming from the handful of people left alive, their numbers dwindling quickly.

I would have thought there was nothing in that to disturb me. But I felt uneasy,

and I wasn't sure why at first.

It wasn't until almost the very end, as I watched a haggard zombie shambling

after the last shrieking survivor, that I realized what the problem was. The scene

kept cutting between the horrified face of the heroine, and the dead, emotionless

face of her pursuer, back and forth as it closed the distance.

And I realized which one resembled me the most.

I stood up.

"Where are you going? There's, like, two minutes left," Jess hissed.

"I need a drink," I muttered as I raced for the exit.

I sat down on the bench outside the theater door and tried very hard not to think

of the irony. But it was ironic, all things considered, that, in the end, I would

wind up as a _zombie_. I hadn't seen that one coming.

Not that I hadn't dreamed of becoming a mythical monster once—just never a

grotesque, animated corpse. I shook my head to dislodge that train of thought,

feeling panicky. I couldn't afford to think about what I'd once dreamed of.

It was depressing to realize that I wasn't the heroine anymore, that my story was

over.

Jessica came out of the theater doors and hesitated, probably wondering where

the best place was to search for me. When she saw me, she looked relieved, but

only for a moment. Then she looked irritated.

"Was the movie too scary for you?" she wondered.

"Yeah," I agreed. "I guess I'm just a coward."

"That's funny." She frowned. "I didn't think you _were _scared—I was screaming

all the time, but I didn't hear you scream once. So I didn't know why you left."

I shrugged. "Just scared."

She relaxed a little. "That was the scariest movie I think I've ever seen. I'll bet

we're going to have nightmares tonight."

"No doubt about that," I said, trying to keep my voice normal. It was inevitable

that I would have nightmares, but they wouldn't be about zombies. Her eyes

flashed to my face and away. Maybe I hadn't succeeded with the normal voice.

"Where do you want to eat?" Jess asked.

"I don't care."

"Okay."

Jess started talking about the male lead in the movie as we walked. I nodded as

she gushed over his hotness, unable to remember seeing a non-zombie man at all.

I didn't watch where Jessica was leading me. I was only vaguely aware that it was

dark and quieter now. It took me longer than it should have to realize why it was

quiet. Jessica had stopped babbling. I looked at her apologetically, hoping I hadn't

hurt her feelings.

Jessica wasn't looking at me. Her face was tense; she stared straight ahead and

walked fast. As I watched, her eyes darted quickly to the right, across the road,

and back again.

I glanced around myself for the first time.

We were on a short stretch of unlit sidewalk. The little shops lining the street

were all locked up for the night, windows black. Half a block ahead, the

streetlights started up again, and I could see, farther down, the quant little diner with lanterns hanging from the corner of the building, supposed to be resembling a chineese setting that she was heading for.

We went inside and ate, whille Jessica talked most of the time. I nodded and smiled appropriately. When the waitress brought the checks we paid for our own and Jessica took a fortune cookie off the tray. Without thinking I followed suit. Jess broke hers open and read her fortune aloud.

"The greatest danger could be your stupidity." She read aloud and raised her eyebrows, I couldn't help the smirk that formed my lips as I looked down at my own fortune.

"Well, what does yours say?" She asked leaning forward, noticing the smirk I fought to keep off my face.

"Umm, 'Love knows not what time is because time has no meaning when you're in love.'" I read.

"Ugh, why couldn't I get that one." Jess huffed, and grabbed her purse while standing up, "Ready?"

"Uh, yeah." I answered stuffing the strip of paper into my purse and following her out.

When we go back in the car, she tuned the stereo back to her favorite station and

turned the volume too loud to allow easy conversation.

I didn't have to struggle as hard as usual to ignore the music. Even though my

mind, for once, was not carefully numb and empty, I had too much to think about

to hear the lyrics.

I thought of the fortune as I waited for the numbness to return, or the pain. Because the pain must be coming. Tonight was going to cost me, I was sure of it. Especially if I couldn't reclaim the haze to protect myself. I felt too alert, and that frightened me.

But relief was still the strongest emotion in my body—relief that came from the

very core of my being. The Fortune seemed to put me at ease, for some unknown reason.

As much as I struggled not to think of him, I did not struggle to _forget_. I worried

—late in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my

defenses—that it _was _all slipping away. That my mind was a sieve, and I would

someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his

cool skin on mine, or the texture of his voice while he spoke to me. I could not _think _of them, but I must _remember _them.

Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to live—I had to

know that he existed. That was all. Everything else I could endure. So long as he

existed.

That's why I was more trapped in Forks than I ever had been before, why I'd

fought with Charlie when he'd suggested a change. Honestly, it shouldn't matter; no

one was ever coming back here. Not for me. And they didn't want me to find them- so I knew I never would.

But if I were to go to Jacksonville, or anywhere else bright and unfamiliar, how

could I be sure he was real? In a place where I could never imagine him, the

conviction might fade… and that I could not live through.

Forbidden to remember, too terrified to forget; it was a hard line to walk.

I was surprised when Jessica stopped the car in front of my house. The ride had

not taken long, but, short as it seemed, I wouldn't have thought that Jessica could

go that long without speaking.

"Thanks for going out with me, Jess," I said as I opened my door. "That was…

fun." I hoped that _fun _was the appropriate word.

"Sure," she muttered.

"I'm sorry about..." I didn't really know why she was upset with me.

"Whatever, Bella." She glared out the windshield instead of looking at me. She

seemed to be growing angrier rather than getting over it.

"See you Monday?" I offered.

"Yeah. Bye."

I gave up and shut the door. She drove away, still without looking at me.

I'd forgotten her by the time I was inside.

Charlie was waiting for me in the middle of the hall, his arms folded tight over

his chest with his hands balled into fists.

"Hey, Dad," I said absentmindedly as I ducked around Charlie, heading for the

stairs. I'd been thinking about _him _for too long, and I wanted to be upstairs before

it caught up with me.

"Where have you been?" Charlie demanded.

I looked at my dad, surprised. "I went to see a movie and have dinner at this chineese place in Port Angeles with Jessica. Like I told you this morning."

"Humph," he grunted.

"Is that okay?"

He studied my face, his eyes widening as if he saw something unexpected.

"Yeah, that's fine. Did you have fun?"

"Sure," I said. "We watched zombies eat people. It was great."

His eyes narrowed.

"'Night, Dad. See you in the morning." He let me pass. I hurried to my room.

Before I hung up my purse I took out my wallet and the fortune. I laid in bed re-reading the Fortune; 'Love knows not what time is because time has no meaning when you're in love.'"

What did it mean? Flipping it over the numbers suddenly stood out at me;19, 17, 06, 20, 19, 18.

I sprung up and grabbed the pad of paper and pencil on my desk. 19, 17- 1917. 06- June, 20- 20th, 19, 18- 1918. How was that possible? The date of Edwards Birthday and the last two years of his human life...

What did it mean? Was this some kind of prank? I threw the notebook off the bed and held my head in my hands.

I began to suspect that I was having some kind of hallucination. Triggered, no

doubt, by the memory— the strangeness of this situation.

I ran through the possibilities quickly in my head.

Option one: I was paranoid. That was the layman's term for people who thought something was out to get them. Right?

Possible.

Option two: My subconscious mind was giving me what it thought I wanted. This

was wish fulfillment—a momentary relief from pain by embracing the incorrect

idea that _he _was still-somehow- a part of my life. Even if only in this little piece of paper.

A) the hope I suddenly felt that he may come back, for some reason and

B) he would be here with me by his birthday?

Probable.

I could see no option three, so I hoped it was the second option and this was just

my subconscious running amuck, rather than something I would need to be

medicated for.

My reaction was hardly sane, though—I was _grateful_. The hope was something I'd feared I was losing, and so, more than anything else, I felt overwhelming gratitude that my unconscious mind had held onto that better than my conscious one had.

I was not allowed to think of him. That was something I tried to be very strict

about. Of course I slipped; I was, still, only human. But I was getting better, and so the

pain was something I could avoid for days at a time now. The trade off was the

never-ending numbness. Between pain and nothing, I'd chosen nothing.

I waited for the pain now. I was not numb—my senses felt unusually intense after

so many months of the haze—but the normal pain held off. The only ache was

the disappointment that this hope inside me was fading.

I lay in my bed a few minutes later, resigned as the pain finally made its

appearance.

It was a crippling thing, this sensation that a huge hole had been punched through

my chest, excising my most vital organs and leaving ragged, unhealed gashes

around the edges that continued to throb and bleed despite the passage of time.

Rationally, I knew my lungs must still be intact, yet I gasped for air and my head

spun like my efforts yielded me nothing. My heart must have been beating, too,

but I couldn't hear the sound of my pulse in my ears; my hands felt blue with

cold. I curled inward, hugging my ribs to hold myself together. I scrambled for

my numbness, my denial, but it evaded me.

And yet, I found I could survive. I was alert, I felt the pain—the aching loss that

radiated out from my chest, sending wracking waves of hurt through my limbs

and head—but it was manageable. I could live through it. It didn't feel like the

pain had weakened over time, rather that I'd grown strong enough to bear it.

Whatever it was that had happened tonight—and whether it was the zombies, or the hallucination that was responsible—it had woken me up.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't know what to expect in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Remebering

I awoke in a cold sweat, but this time I couldn't remember the nightmare. I couldn't breathe.

I jolt up and realize, I am not in my bed. I blink, trying desperately to focus my eyes, but sunlight shining through the window across from my bed shone in brightly-So bright that it hurt my eyes. I pull the comforter away and find myself in a long ivory nightgown. It is beauiful, but not at all something I would wear to bed. And definitely not what I remember wearing to bed.

"Miss Izzie, I'm so glad you're awake. Dr. Harris said you'd be fine. But he's always right. how many times are you going to fall before you realize it isn't good for you?" She smiles teasingly.

"Uh," I offer quietly, unsure of myself as I begin to look around the unfamilliar room.

The woman stops and looks at me questionably for a moment before rushing over to touch my forehead. "Oh, Miss Isabella..." She whispers. She looks so worried.

"I'm fine. I'm, perfectly, fine." I suddenly realize I know her and I don't want her to worry over me. I can _almost_ remember her through my whole life... _almost_, but the _'memory' _of this woman seems hazy like when you try to remember a dream you had a week ago. "I-I was just kidding... Elanore." I smile, hesitantly. Waiting.

She scolds me briefly, I feel my heart drop. Were these _'memories' _wrong? Did I not know her? Before I could stress anymore over the subject of thought she was hugging me. "Don't you ever do that to me again, Izzie. Or, I warn you, I'll have to whip you a good one."

"We both know you would never whip me." I laugh, easily. Then freeze. I was laughing. Really laughing. I try, desperately, to remember why that notion should shock me... but I only find the memories of 'Forks' are just as hazy- if not more so then the 'memories' I have of the life I 'remember' having here with Elanore.

"Remember the time you got caught with the cookie jar in your room?" Elanore asks. And the weird thing is- I do remember. The memory she's speaking of sweapt me up as if I was watching it in a movie.

It was late at night, my parents were sleeping and I was so hungery. I snuck down stairs and climbed up on the counter. I took the whole jar down instead of just a few cookies because I was not sure how hungery I was. Thinking that when I was finished I'd simply sneak the jar back down stairs. What I did not count on was falling asleep. In the morning when Elanore came to wake me. She caught me dozing with my face resting on the jar. "You still didn't whip me." I smiled, knowingly. "I'd had such a bad tummy ache that morning... You took care of me all day. Made me soup and everything." I laugh up at her. Elanore sits down on my bed beside me.

"You're growing up so fast." Elanore whispers. "I remember when you're mom brought you home from the hospital. I had just started working for your parents the week before... And you were the one of the prettiest little things I had ever seen." I leaned forward and hugged her tightly, feeling some deep conection with this woman.

Elanore cleared her throat, "Come, now. Let's get you dressed, Shall we?" I nod and Elanore goes to my closet pulling out a beautiful lavender dress. "This will do for your outing with Evangeline."

"Evangeline?" I ask, confusedly. "Elanore... I- I think I had a dream. It was all so real...What's today's date?" I wondered suddenly.

"It's June twenteth, 1917." she answered without a pause.

"Hmm." I hummed trying to calm my suddenly rapid heart and wrapping my arms around myself, trying desperately to halt the dull ache in my chest.

"What is it?" Elanore asks.

"It was 89 years in the future, he has copper hair and golden eyes." I muse quietly, mostly to myself. The first time I'd seen _him_. The day _he_ nearly killed me. I instincively knew he was

"Golden eyes, dear?"

"The first day of School... I went to in- my dream." I almost said Forks, but catch myself. "How do you know when you're still dreaming, Elanore? How do you know which reality is real... what if both memories are equally as dim as the other?" I ask, quietly, nervously.

"Well, I suppose, whichever one you don't wake up from- or the one you awaken to." She muses, ruffling my hair. "Come, now, I'm sure your mother and father are waiting on you for breakfast." Elanore kisses my cheek and takes my hand pulling me from the warmth of my bed. Elanore helps me dress and we make our way downstairs. Once I get down stairs I find my father sitting at the table reading over the newspaper and grumbling.

"Dad, why do you even bother reading that? All it does is upset you." I sigh.

Dad looks up an starts to speak, but mom interupts. "Izzie, Evangeline is waiting for you." My mom comes around the corner and she looks... beautiful. Her light blonde hair is spun onto her shoulder. She smiles at me as I rush to hug her. It seems as if I haven't seen her in ages. "Your father and I will meet you at the game." Mom promises.

"What game?" I ask unsurely.

"Izzie," A girl with blond hair steps through the door. "The baseball game. We have to go watch!" Elanore laughs quietly and Evangeline blushes. "Hurry, We'll be late." She murmurs grabbing my wrist and pulling me to the door.

"Have fun, Izzie." Elanore calls from inside.

"Be safe." I hear my father call before the door closes.

"Why did you ask why?" Evangeline moans.

"Because. I don't like baseball..." I sanswer honestly, shrugging.

Evangeline smiles at me raising her eye brows. "Trust me, you will love this game."

I am bewildered, but do not question her. She bounds gracefully, up some stairs leading to another home- one that I feel I should remember better then I do.

"Why are we here?" I ask.

Evangeline looks at me worrily, "Are you feeling okay, Izzie? We're here to get Scarlet- our best friend." Without any more reply she knocks on the wooden door.

This girl is the complete opposite of Eangeline. She is taller then me, semi-dark skin, with medium length, brown hair and eyes.

"Thank goodness, you guys are here! Let's go!" She pushes us down the stairs and walks us swiftly down the sidewalk. "Sorry, about that. My mother was talking to me about a betrothal." She widens her eyes at the word and sighs.

"But your so young." I blurt out. Both of my friends turn to look at me, then they laugh. I feel my face flush. "I'm only saying you should wait awhile. Why would you rush something so important?" I question.

"You're right, I think she's worried I won't find a husband."

"Why?" Evangeline asks, "You're beautiful, well spoken, good natured. You'll be a wonderful wife." I mentally roll my eyes.

"Why is a husband so important anyway?" I question, "We can do anything a man can do." I huff.

"Isabella," Scarlet laughs, and throws her arms around me, "You know just what to say to cheer me up." She's still giggling as we come to a field with a crowd of people standing around talking excitedly with one another- some even making bets while doting their sons playing abilities.

"Izzie!" I hear someone shout I turn to the sound and am knocked over when a young girl slams into me. 'Oof,' I hear the air woosh out of my lungs as we both tumble to the ground from my inability to keep us up.

I pull back so I can see the girl. Her hair loose around her shoulders and curling slightly from the humidity, "Christine," I hear a woman call. The girl jumps up off me.

"Oh, Christine, look at what you've done to Isabella." The woman holds out a hand and I take it easily. Scarlet takes my other hand and helps to pull me back to my feet.

"Hello, Mrs. Ward." I ask unsure once again if my distant memories of this light red haired woman are true, or not. Thankfully, the woman smiles at me and says hello to Scarlet and Evangeline. "Come this way, you can sit with us... if you'd like."

"Of course, they would!" Christine jumps excitedly to my side. She reminded me of a loyal dog. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Of course." I answer, Mrs. Ward smiles and leads us through the group of people to a place where a blanket is unfolded on the ground. People are gathered there too.

"Oh, Izzie!" This time a copper haired lady jumps up from the blanket her green eyes sparkling as she pulls me into a hug. The hug feels natural and warm, loving even.

The sight of her sends a familliar ache through my chest... the ache that seems to be... other worldly. But I force a smile and try to ignore the pain radiating from my chest. 'He's gone,' echos through my mind, and the knowledge hurts, but why? I don't even remember to whom I was refering.

"Izzie?" I hear Evangeline ask quietly, resting a hand on my arm, "Are you all right?"

I nod quickly, "I- I had a dream last night... it seems to have thrown me off balance."

''You looked as if some one had died." Mrs. Masen whispered, "Is everything okay?"

I shake away the rush of scenes from my head of a boy with broze hair and golden eyes, and feel dizzy, and my head spins. I clench my eyes closed. When I open them I find a sea of people standing over me.

"Step back," Mrs. Masen snaps, worridly, "she needs air, that's all." I keep still trying to make the

"Bella, can you hear me?"

"No, go away," I murmur, embarassed beyond belief.

The boy laughs freely and I feel my cheeks flush. I open my eyes and freeze, the pain in my chest- it's gone. The dull ache I'd awoken with this morning vanished. Not like the pain had healed any, but as if it had never been there.

"Edward," My voice was so quiet only the two of us heard it.

"Yes?" He questioned as I studied him. He was more boyish then he had been in my 'dream'. His skin was slightly sunkissed from being outside. "Ms. Swan?"

"Izzie." I corrected. He only smiled and shook his head.

"Still so stubborn, Ms. Swan." He tsked.

"Of course, if I wasn't you'd never budge on anything. Right, Mr. Masen?" He hated me calling him 'Mr. Masen' since that was what I called his father. I sat up and Edward's hand supported me by resting on my lower back.

Once standing I cleared my throat and smiled as everyone watched me cautiously, "I'm fine." I promised feeling my face heat further- I must have resembled a tomato. I ducked my head. Until I heard Mrs. Masen and Mrs Ward- Edward's aunt- begin conversations, thankfully drawing the much unwated attention frome me.

"Are you truly okay, Izzie?" Christine questioned taking my hand.

"Yes, I just... I don't really know what happened." I answered, "But I am okay now."

"Tom, can you go get Isabella some water?"

"Sure-"

"No, Tom, I can get my own water." I insisted, but my own interuption was interupted by Evangeline.

"I'll go with you, Mr. Ward. I am rather thirsty, as well." Evangeline was blushing. I smiled- so that was why she'd been in such a hurry to get here.

Mr. ward- Tom, Edward's cousin offered Evangeline his arm and they walked off already in conversation. I looked to my side and found Edward shaking his head at the two of them.

"What? Do you not think Evangeline is good enough for him?"

He looked at me as if shocked, "No, only thinking of how unbearable it will be to live with him now." I cocked my head, but just as Edward was about to explain a group of boys surrounded us.

"Are you game, Masen?" one asked pushing Edward playfully, while another answered, "When isn't Edward game?"

I quietly wound my way out of the crowd, Evangeline may not be a bad match for Thomas, but Edward and I... well, when it came to Edward, I was so far out of the running it wasn't funny. Edward and I, even when we did go to the same school, were far too different to be compatable.

I was invisible to everyone but my few close friends- the way I prefered it. Edward though, he seemed to grow with the more attention he had. Edward radiated in a crowd, while I dimmed. But... even knowing we would never be... I still dreamed of it, wrote of it- Never using names of course.

Edward and I had been raised with one another, our fathers' working together quite a lot, and even though our mothers were not that fond of eachother, Mrs. Masen adored Elanore and I.

She'd always wanted a daughter, but she couldn't have anymore children after she had Edward. She'd almost died giving birth to him. And every child she had after him was either still born or miscarried. So she treated me as if I was apart of her family. as if I were the daughter she never had- so, I was never bothered by the fact that my real mother, Renee, never had time for me, for in my mind, I had both Mrs. Masen and Elanore.

I watched Edward from afar, until, I saw Miranda Mallory make her way through the group and glue herself to Edward's arm. I felt my stomach turn and the pain that had disapeared when I'd seen him, it came back that easily, I carefully puched it away. I did not want to cause another scene.

"When are you going to tell him?" I practically jumped out of my skin.

"Oh! Elanore! You startled me."

"I apologize, but when are you going to tell Mr. Edward that you have feelings for him?"

"Simple," I tell her, "I'm not." I turn to walk away, but I know she won't let it go that easily.

"He cares for you, too, but he's a man. Isabella, sometimes men must be forced to see their true feelings."

"What do you propose I do?" I ask throwing my hands in the air. "I will only embarress myself further. Besides, Edward, he's different. He's going to need a pretty little wife who can stand by his side without tripping every step of the way and holding him back. He's going to do... amazing things. I...I couldn't bear it if I were to ruin it for him, Elanore... And when Summer break is over he'll be leaving for his schooling again, and after that he'll become a soldier. That's all he thinks of! Going to war. 'A soldier's glory'!" I repeat his words, scorning them even as they leave my own mouth.

"His own uncle was a soldier- Did he have any glory? No!" I cried, "He was sent back in a wooden box with nothing but a few gunshots at his funeral and a flag for his family!" I try to calm myself taking deep breaths. I force myself to look up at Elanore, "Nothing I do is going to make him look past that. And I... I can't wait here. Wondering if the next time I see him will be in a casket- or if I end up like Mr. Ward nothing but the casket." I lower my head and when I lift it I wipe the traitor tears that leaked from my eyes. My gaze subconciously finding Edward, but when I do, I notice he's looking at me, too. I quickly turn away and Elanore pushes my hair from my face.

"Perhaps, if you... tried showing him instead of telling him." Elanore suddenly had the look of... well, utter mischiff, on her face.

"What do you mean?" I ask wearily.

"I mean, Isabella to flirt. Beguile him."

"Beguile? Flirt? I don't have the slightest idea as to how to do either of those things."

"It's quite simple, Isabella. You talk, smile, giggle-"

"Giggle?" I question raising an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yes, and little touches. Not like Ms. Mallory- the touching I hear that that young lady does..." Elanore shivers theatrically, "It's horrid, but you could touch his arm, Catch his eyes, like you did a moment ago, but smile when he catches you." I flush at her notice.

"Elanore-"

"Just promise you will try. not only because of your feelings, but because of Elizabeth, she's so worried about Edward. And if you could give- or be the reason for him to stay. That would be the most gracious thing."

"Fine, I promise to try, but I cannot make any promsies that it will work." I sigh, looking up again only to feel a thrill shoot through me when I notice Edward looking at me agin.

"Smile at him, Isabella." Elanore commands. I follow her command and smile. "Good, now wave- notheing big, just raise your hand and flick your fingers a bit." I do and I am surprised when he raises his hand back. "Very good! Perfect!" Elanore compliments.

"Edward are you playing base ball, or-" The comment by one of his buddies is cut short when Edward hit the back of his friend's head. "Ow!"

Edward only laughs, and says, "Are you going to play baseball, or whine." The punch line creates a laugh from both his peers and the audience around him. He looks back at me as if looking for approval.

"Small smile now, Izzy." I do so easily, "Perfect now, hold his gaze until... now."

"Ms. Swan." I jump again, startled by the sound that is not Elanore's quiet commands, but a man's voice, I turn to see Edward's best friend Lucas Cheney with his younger brother not far behind.

"Mr. Cheney," I greet him.

"I hoped I wouldn't be late, but it seems I am." He smiles, his hazel eyes lighting a bit.

"Not by much," I promise, but they're dividing teams now. You may want to hurry." He thanks me before he and his brother dash to where the boys are all gathered.

Edward

Chapter 2(pt 2): Prizes

I watch my best friend speak to Isabella and when she smiles at him I feel my stomach turn. I shake the odd feeling back. Isabella and I could not stand to be in the same room together since we were 10 years old without arguing, or diagreeing. So why did I have the sudden urge to want her to like me? Why was I suddenly craving another one of her smiles? Why was I hoping she would look my way again?

"Edward? Hello! You're captain, stop day dreaming and concentrate. I'd like to win." Tom jerks his head to where one of Isabella's friends- Ms. Webber sits speaking with our mothers. _I'd like to win as well,_ I decide silently.

"Edward, your pick." Matthew calls out.

"Tom." I call, after the teams are chosen I have my closest friends on my team- including Lucas and his younger brother, Nick- on my team. I find my self looking up every other minute to see if Isabella is watching. This procedes through nearly the whole game. While we are waiting to bat- and I'm taking my moment to find Isabella Lucas interupts.

"What is going on between you and Ms. Swan?"

"Nothing. I'm just worried. She fainted earlier-"

"And she said I didn't miss out on much." Luke jokes, I glare. Luke ignores me and says, "Are you sure your just worried for the girl?" He asks.

"Of course." I answer, although the moment it comes out of my mouth I know I've just walked into a trap.

"Good, because I was thinking of asking her to go see and moving picture with me."

"Isabella? You were planning to take Isabella to a moving picture?"

"Well, yes, She's grown up quite a bit in the year we've been away. Don't you think?" He raises his hand and waves. I look over my shoulder just in time to see Isabella turn to her friend Scarlet Lloyd. "You see? Adorable is she not?"

"Not to you." I say through clenched teeth.

"But why Eddie? Your only worried for her health, correct?" He smiles confidently.

"Don't call me Eddie. And I would rather you didn't ask her to-"

"Cheney, You're up." Some one calls, and before waiting for me to finish Lucas takes off.

I look to where Isabella is now sitting with my mother and aunt. Sighing and pushing my fingers through my hair. I'm now impatient to earn her attention. I watch her as Lucas hits the ball and makes it to a first base. I walk up to take the bat, swinging a few times before focusing. Bases are loaded and I'm the last to bat. If I hit a homerun, I win the game for us.

"No pressure." I whisper to myself, glancing to see if Isabella was watching me, I feel a thrill shoot through me when I meet her chocolate brown eyes. She bites her lip and I look away before I loose focus on the game.

"If I win this game," I mumble to myself, "I ask her to see a moving picture with me. If I don't," I sigh, "I'll think about that when the time comes, I suppose.

The ball flies from the pitcher's hand and I swing the bat almost on instinct, I feel the smack of the ball vibrate through my body. I drop the bat and run as fast as I can. I see around me that everyone is doing the same. I realize we're gambling. Getting these last three runs are the only thing we can do to win. Second base, third base. the other team is faulting big time, I laugh and push myself faster.

Luke gets to home plate and now it's up to me. The ball flies to third, but only a bit too late. The player on third throws the ball toward home and I hear Isabella.

"Come on, Edward!" I slide and my fingers just touch home base, when the player catches the ball. Everyone seems to freeze as the refferee calls it. My hearts pounding so loudly in my ears that's all I can hear.

"Safe!" I hear the Refferee yell, and I jump up and yell, before I'm suddenly tackled by my whole team. I look beyond them all to see my family and friends who did not participate in the games laughing and hooting for my victiry. But my gaze is focused on Isabella, my prize.

I weave my way through the other boys and jog -still panting- to where Isabella is standing her hands clasped together and smiling widely, her face flushed from the excitment and her deep brown eyes sparkling. When I'm standing in front of her I hear congratulations all around me as well, as my mother comments teasingly about my dirty clothes.

My cousin, Christine, jumps up and nearly knocks me over. "You were amazing!" She squeals. "Wasn't he amazing, Izzie?" she practically vibrates she is bouncing so much, but my eyes meet Isabella's, waiting for her answer.

"Yes, Edward is quite amazing." She smiles glancing up shyly beneath her long dark lashes. I cannot help but smile.

"I'm glad you think so, Isabella." I say quietly, but she hears me and her cheeks turn a pretty rose color. My fingers twitch- aching to feel the warmth spreading to her perfect high cheek bones. The color of her blush contrasts so beautifully against her creme skin. "As my reward, I would like it if you would do me the honor of seeing a moving picture with me." My mouth spoke the words without my permission to do so.

She turns her head to the side as if she hadn't heard me right. "Did- Did you just ask me to see a movie with you?" She questions, this time I feel my own face flush. She wasn't staring at yo, I thought to myself. She wanted Lucas to ask her to the moving picture.

"Well, I figured. We could all celebrate, Lucas and I were already discussing going to the cinema-"

"_We_ were?" Lucas says laughing, I ignore him and continue.

"You could bring your friends and we could all go out... you know... Have fun." I shrug as if it means nothing, but in reality I don't think I'm even breathing.

"Yes!" I smile, but the yes didn't come from Isabella, it came from just over her shoulder- "I mean, I don't think we have any plans tonight. Do we Scarlet? Right Bella?" Evangeline asks hopefully.

"I don't have anywhere else to be." Scarlet answers indifferently.

"I'm not sure if I can go." Isabella finally answers. My breath wooshes out as if someone kicked me in the stomach- so much for your prize. "You see, my parents are going out of town, I wouldn't have anywhere to stay."

"Oh! Izzie! You could come stay with me!" Christine shouts, too loudly. "Mother! Could I have a slumber party? You could all come to our house!" Christine jumps excitedly.

"But Christine, the boys are already staying the night." Aunt Rosemarie, answers, "Both Mr. and Mrs. Masen and Mr. and Mrs. Cheney are going to be out of town as well."

"But mother, Thomas gets to have friends over all of the time. Please mother, Please!" I run my hands through my hair, wondering if it would help if I got down on my knees to beg, as well.

Finally, my aunt Rose sighs and says, "As long as I talk to everyone's parents about it." I feel like jumping up and down with Christine, but thankfully I have a good amount of self control then a 14 year old girl.

After much arranging and my father lecturing us boys on 'prpper behavior around the ladies' I finally get permission to take my birthday present out early. We all seem to run out of the falls quickly behind in our roudiness, so I kneel down and allow her to climb on my back, as the other boys continue to race ahead, I of course end up beating them to the car- even with Christine on my back.

"Show off," I hear Thomas, pant slightly before pushing me goodnaturedly into the side of the car.

Nik opens the door and helps Christine in while Thomas beats Lucas to the passenger seat. Lucas has to settle for the back. "How are we all suppose to fit in the car when we pick up the girls?"

"We can squeeze." Tom, laughs, jokingly- I don't laugh because his statment is true. The girls were waiting for us at the park by now.

On our way to the park, Christine speaks up, "So which one of you are going to be with whom?"

"What do you mean Chrissie?" Lucas asks.

"I mean who are you all going to sit by in the cinema? I mean, I guess, I have a pretty good idea."

"What are you speaking of, Chrissie?" I question.

"Well, it is like this, Lucas and Evangeline have been flirting since last summer, they even write to one another while you boys are away at school, and Thomas and Scarlet both have that... seemingly rough edge when in reality they are both clearly undressing one another with their eyes-"

"Where did you hear that?" I laugh.

"Well, Izzie and the other girls were talking, after you boys went to get a drink. They were all teasing one another... But I just figured... that everyone would sort of be courting another."

"And where does that leave Edward?" Thomas questions, niavely.

"Well, he did ask Isabella if she'd like to go to the cinemas specifically... At least that's what Evangeline was gushing about. Then she said something about when the lights went off..." I laugh nervously and behind me I hear Lucas chuckling. I look over to see Lucas wide eyed and utterly shocked by the words of his fourteen year old sister.

"Oh, dear God," I mutter, while shaking my head.

"So, wait. Since when did you... start to look at Isabella in that way?"

"In what way?" I ask trying to shrug the comment away, Lucas kicks the back of the seat. I purposely keep my eyes on the road.

"Honestly, Edward-"

"There they are!" Christine squealed from the back seat- interupting her brother's question quite nicely.

Isabella was still wearing her purple dress from earlier today, her mahogony hair curled slightly in the heat. I parked the automobile abruptly and practically jumped from the driver's seat, but froze when I saw Damien stroking his finger across Isabella's cheek. His hand shook as if he was nervous. I knew immediately; I was not the only man to have noticed Isabella.

Damien took a deep breath, working up his nerve, no doubt. I realized right away that he was trying to make his intensions known. But the boy was weak. He looked terrified to make his infatuation known. He didn't want to make himself vulnerable to rejection, he was prefering Isabella to take the leap first.

Coward. I thought angrily.

"Ms. Swan, You do know there is a Charity ball next week, yes?"

"Yes, I heard what your mother was doing; Raising money for the soldiers. It's great!" She smiled at him.

"Yes, well you see. Ms. Hannah has asked if I would be her escort."

"You'll have a lot of fun with Hannah." Isabella asured him. I wanted to laugh at her innocence. She really had no idea did she? It was hard for me not to smile as her tone sunk in. He'd been hoping to make her jealous.

"Well, um, I was, uh, actually thinking-" the poor boy struggled for the right response. he looked at the ground again as he spoke.

"I was wondering if…well, if you might be planning to ask me... to escort you."

Bella hesitated, her eyes widening in shock.

In that moment, I looked at the future more clearly than I ever had before.

Isabella might say yes to Damien's unspoken question now, or she might not, but either way, someday soon, she would say yes to someone. She was pretty and smart, and men-no matter the age- were oblivious to these facts. Whether she would settle for someone now, or later she _would _say yes.

I saw her life as I'd never bothered to see before love, marriage, children. I saw her on her father's arm, dressed in lacy white, her face flushed with happiness as she moved to the sound of Wagner's march.

The pain... it was more than anything I'd ever felt before. And not just pain, but outright _rage_. The fury ached for some kind of physical outlet. Though this insignificant, undeserving boy might not be the one that Isabella would say yes to, I yearned to break his jaw with my fist, to let him stand as a representative for whoever it would be. I didn't understand this emotion it was such a tangle of pain and rage and desire and despair. I had never felt it before; I couldn't put a name to it.

"Mr. Carter, I think you should tell Hannah yes," Isabella said in a gentle voice. his hopes plummeted. I would have enjoyed that under other circumstances, but I was lost in the aftershock of the pain and the remorse for what the pain and rage had done to me.

"Did you already ask someone?" Damien asked sullenly glancing at me, suspicious of my sudden interest. I realized I had betrayed my interest; my head was inclined in Bella's direction.

The wild envy on his face—envy for whoever this girl preferred to him—suddenly put a name to my unnamed emotion. I was jealous.

"No," the girl said with a slight humor in her voice. "I don't know who I'm going with. Through all the remorse and anger, I felt relief at her words. But suddenly, I was considering _my _rivals.

"Why not?" Damien asked, his tone was rude. It offended me that he used this tone with her. I bit back my remark and settled for clenching my fist.

"My father has already arranged an escort for me." she answered.

The curiosity was not as vicious as it would have been before—now that I was fully intending to find out the answers to everything. I would know the wheres and whys of this new revelation soon enough.

"So you shouldn't make Hannah wait any longer—it's rude."

Her response only created more questions. Did she refuse purely out of loyalty to her father and unknown Escort? She was more than selfless enough for that. Did she actually wish she could say yes? Or were both guesses wrong? Was she interested in someone else?

"Yes, of course, you're right," Damien mumbled, so demoralized that I almost felt pity for him. Almost.

She didn't look away, even though I stared with inappropriate intensity, trying vainly to understand her thoughts through her liquid brown eyes. They were full of questions, rather than answers.

I could see the reflection of my own eyes in hers. She still did not look away, and that soft, devastatingly appealing pink began to color her skin again.

_ What was she thinking now?_

I almost asked the question aloud, but at that moment Thomas said "We better get going if we want to get to the cinemas on time."

"Okay!" Evangeline Bounced. She reminded me of Christine. I couldn't help but smile. Bella shook her head turning to look at where Damien had disapeared to.

"Isabella," I questioned quietly, "are you all right?"

She smiled, but her eyes didn't echo the turn of her perfect lips. "I'm fine." She answered. I nodded once and took her hand and set it on my arm as I lead her to the automobile. "I heard the movie is good."

"Me as well," I answered smiling down at her.

"Are you two coming with us, or would you rather do something else?" Luke called out to us.

Isabella's face heated and I couldn't help but laugh, "I suppose we shouldn't keep them waiting." We quickened our pace to the automobile.


End file.
